The Tiniest of Hopes
by Alex Rose
Summary: What was going on inside Thayet's mind, the first time she saw Jon? This is one imagining.


**The Tiniest of Hopes**

It's funny. I don't think I quite knew what I was doing as I stumbled half-asleep down those stairs. To say that I was doing what a cat had told me would seem like madness, but then Faithful isn't an ordinary cat.

It was his voice I heard first. That deep, sweet musical voice of a young man, contrasting with Alanna's gruff, but none the less feminine, tones. It took me far too long, even for my sleepy state, to realise that it was this that Faithful had suggested I go down stairs to see. Pausing outside the door, I ran a hurried hand through my hair. I knew Alanna would call me vein, but all though she had seen me in far worse states than this one while we travelled together, I had not met her visitor and I could not shake off that noble instinct to make myself look presentable. I pushed open the door and even now, I don't know what it was that made me exclaim, "Oh, I'm sorry!" Perhaps it was that I had missed hearing George's voice in the room, but if I am honest it was because I was not expecting Alanna's guest to be the King of Tortall.

Something happened in that moment. I know Jon said something, but I cannot for the life of me remember what but was. I've never seen any man look at me the way he did before. My father looked at me and never saw me - just the son he never had. My brother looked at me as something to protect. Someone small and delicate. Jon looked at me in awe. There's no other word for it. I think I must have looked frightened out of my skin, standing there clutching my dressing gown to my chest, wishing I had never listened to that damn cat, and yet thankful that I had all in the one breath.

It was George, the thief, who spoke first, offering tea. It's such a simple thing to do, but really a cup of tea goes a long way to putting most things to rights again. I can't say the same for his idea of offering me the seat next to Jon made me feel quite as at ease but I managed not to falter, than the Great Mother Goddess. He rose, just as a King should and I offered my hand for him without even thinking. The press of his lips on my skin burned and I dropped my hand away, struggling for something to say and finally blurting out "We haven't been properly introduced." I must have sounded horribly stiff and distant, but no one seemed to notice my tone.

After that I don't really remember what we talked of. Politics most likely and perhaps of friends and acquaintances that I have yet to meet. Jon asked the cursory questions about Sarain. I took tea and tried not to look at the man sat next to me more than was polite. I wished I could read his thoughts. I'm sure everyone could read mine.

It's funny. I never thought this would happen. I expected a lot of strange things, but never this. It's like something out of those fairy tales, not real life. Not my life. Once upon a time I might have dreamed of such a thing, but now I daren't even entertain the thought that it might come to something. I'm not a princess anymore. I have no land to be princess of and no right to think of a king in such ways.

But could I? I feel like I came to Tortall for a reason. I though it was just the chance to start over, but maybe, just maybe, there's more to it than that. Perhaps, like Alanna, I have some key part to play in the way that history is unfolding here.

She told me what a crisis Tortall is facing. I hadn't imagined such things were even possible. They sound like things out of the ancient tales, not things that are happening here and now. I find it hard to believe that they are true. If it wasn't for the fact that I trust Alanna, I wouldn't believe that the duke had ever died. I can't not believe it now though – not after I'd seen the haunted look in her eyes as she told me the dark tale. Everything in her testifies to the truth of her story.

I just don't know where I fit. I'm no warrior like Alanna nor smart like George, and I'm not even royal like Jonathan is any more. I'm nothing. A nobody in this. Where is my place? I know where I want it to be, but I dare not even write the words in black and white on the page. Still, even if it is only the tiniest of hopes, it is all I have.


End file.
